


All Around You

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [75]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Breaking the News, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:11:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: Imagine Thorin’s calloused hands lifting your chin and gently wiping away your tears.





	

Gone.

The words haunted you more than any word you had ever heard before.

Gone. You could not even fathom the definition of such a word, though your father had read it to you like a bedtime story when you were a child. Any proper scholar’s daughter knew the word. Yet none knew what it felt like.

At least, you didn’t think they could know what it felt like. This pain was surely unfelt before. No one could have felt this much pain, like their breath was being squeezed out of their lungs. It was something no one could survive. You were certain of that. You barely felt alive, just so numb that you couldn’t tell if your lips were moving in words or if your feet were taking you out of the room before you collapsed.

But somehow the words managed from your throat like a croak. “Excuse me.”

You did not know Erebor well. You had only been in the city for all of a few short hours, waiting for the King to receive you (as the King’s chambers were knowingly at least an hour’s walk away from the throne, for protection. And by the time the messenger reached the King to let him know of your presence, and then the others, before they returned… you had eaten lunch in the wait, was all you really needed to say on the matter).

Yet your stomach felt empty and churning all at the same time. Your feet shuffled away from the King’s presence, the sorrow surrounding him like a thick perfume. You had to breathe, yet could not. You needed cool air. The room was much too warm, the fire burning too brightly.

Perhaps you had misheard.

But no, it was still echoing in your head. “He’s gone.”

The definition of what this specific gone meant was in the tone. The finality, the slight hesitation before the words. The dip of his head in regret to be the one delivering them. Yet knowing it was his duty, as Thorin, to do so.

You found yourself in the hallway, the drawing room forgotten, your hand gripping the jade walls as you stumbled as far away as you could. The beads of your gown snagged under your sloppy footfalls. And when you could not walk no more, you stumbled down onto your knees.

Gone.

The sudden breathing was not calm, but ragged, like the winds of a storm. You tears falling like rain onto the black marble beneath you. And the sounds escaping you did not sound human.

If Fili was gone, you would have known long ago. You would have known months before the raven arrived with your summons. You would have known.

You were his One. That was how it worked. How you had always believed it to work. You two were one being, one soul bound together, and what happened to one body, could be felt to the other. That is how true the love was, how firmly you believed in his return. Perhaps you had believed too much.

“Y/N…” You heard the heavy footsteps from behind you, your Uncle by oath following you to where you were broken on the floor. He did not demand you rise, or expect you to cease the crying, nor did you think you could think of a single thing to make any of it stop. Instead, he knelt down next to you, and lifted your chin gently with his thumb. The hand was calloused from years of forging the silver spoons and steel swords he had been raised and handed. Years of hard work that had led him to this very moment, to his success. Callouses to remind him, and anyone he touched, of his dedication. 

His other hand wiped at a few tears, though there was little to be done to get rid of all of them. “There was no way I could tell you through a letter.” No, if that had happened… it was best news spoken in person. “He fell honorably, searching for Kili. He promised to keep Kili safe.” And he had. Kili was well. Injured, but well. And Fili was just… gone.

“What good is honor when you are dead?” you spoke, your voice small and uneven. As you met the King’s gaze, you saw the redness around Thorin’s own eyes. It was his nephew, someone he had seen as his own son, his heir. A brother in arms. A friend. His own blood.

Yet the question was one Thorin had no answer to. His own gaze dropped, and his hand fell from your chin, instead squeezing your shoulders in a support that you had always found him to be. He was your Uncle, your family, even if you had not formally married Fili.

“I am sorry I could not keep him safe. I failed in my promise to you and Dis both.”

You could not imagine what Lady Dis herself would do when she arrived in a few weeks. She had been a month farther from Erebor than you, attending to business for her wares trade. Her own son… It brought more tears. Your hands covered your face this time as you cried, and you cried hard, for longer than you had ever done so in your life. You had never hurt this much.

But Thorin continued, his voice firm and all-knowing, every bit the King he now was. “But I have not a doubt in my mind that he is not here with you, that he is not always with you.” Thorin’s grip tightened and he shook your shoulders to get you to look at him. “Fili is all around you, around Erebor, around Dis, around Kili. He is with you always, and he would have that no other way.”

“What am I going to do?” you whispered. “I’ve never known a life without Fee-without him in it,” you admitted, your fears and the feelings his words stirred outweighing the unbearable urge to keep crying. “I’ve never known a world without him. And now he is gone, and… and the city continues as if nothing has changed, as if no one has died. Do they not understand? That our world is changed, that he’s… he’s never coming back?”

“It’s been six months, Y/N,” Thorin said gently. Six months. You knew it was the battle the previous winter, you knew that he had fallen when Orcs had tried to end his line, but for you… the death was now, it was ten minutes ago and fresh and raw and now. Not six months ago. Not nearly a lifetime ago. “For the city, all they’ve known is a world without him.” Most of the people in the city now had probably not even met the prince, you realized, as they all were months away in Ered Luin when the battle even happened, and Fili himself did not travel much outside of the village and the neighboring villages you all lived. He had not met the miners, who now made the city breathe. He had only met farmers, traders, young smiths with too firm a livelihood to leave it all behind for a forgotten kingdom. “As for what you’ll do… well, look around you. There’s a city to run, and I’ll need my niece to manage a good bit of it.”

You must have shown your surprise, because Thorin’s sternness faded into watery territory, as if he was afraid of causing you to cry more. “You are my niece, Y/N, married to my nephew or not. You have been apart of this family for a long time, and semantics won’t change that now. You are a Durin, and a Durin lives on through the hardships. Fili would not want you to have no place, and nor would I. He is going to be missed by so many, but no one more so than our family.”

His words brought more tears, once more. And he let out a sigh, before pulling you into one of his rare hugs. And you cried, knowing that he wept too for his nephew. That the pain wouldn’t go away, because it was still raw for so many others that were close to Fili too.

But you knew Thorin spoke true. Fili would be everywhere. He would be in his brother, and his mother, and his uncle, and the city. He would be all around you, always.


End file.
